Moonlit Meetings
by Tokahlia
Summary: One-shot. A recount of the first unplanned meeting between Inuyasha and Kikyo after she is resurrected.


**AN **I'm not that much of a KikyoxInuyasha shipper, but I hate the way Kikyo is bashed relentlessly by the fandom at times. I quite like her, she is deep, has issues but still tries to mostly do the right thing. Sure, she tried to kill Inuyasha at the start but please, she thought he'd betrayed her then killed her. I'd be pretty annoyed too. Rated K+ for the general angst present? Oh the angst. Also 3rd person present was quite interesting to write in. Please do tell me if I've switched back to 3rd person past at some point or if I've made any other silly mistakes, or if you enjoyed it or anything really. ^^ I'm a sucker for feedback.

_As much as it might surprise you I do not infact own InuYasha or any of the characters. Even this situation is not really mine to claim credit to. I just internalised the thoughts and added extra angst. All credit goes to the lovely Rumiko Takahashi. _

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**Moonlit Meetings**

The first time Inuyasha comes surprises the dead priestess. She hasn't been enticing his presences, hasn't been contemplating new ways to send them to hell. She hasn't sent out false calls of help nor has she ordered her soul collectors to draw him in. He simply finds her wilfully and this is what makes her heart break.

She knows he is aware that she is a shell of her former self. She knows that there will be no more impromptu picnics where they talk of the past and the future. She knows that there will be no more moments where she gives out thoughtless chuckles at tales of his latest escapades. She is constantly, painfully privy to the fact that there will be no more kisses that make her heart speed up and her knees buckle, no more fireworks and electric currents that pass through her when they touch. No, all that is left is emptiness. Their simple, human hopes and dreams of a time 'after the jewel' undoubtedly caused the wrath of the gods to concur upon them.

Kikyo is hollow. A hollow bit of clay and bones held together by a portion of a soul that has moved on to another reincarnation. It makes her sick and full of self-loathing yet she continues to endure. She endures because she had a duty to the jewel. She endures because she wants, so desperately needs to make sure that Inuyasha can be happy and live the life she desired to share with him, with another if not herself.

Therefore she is surprised to find a familiar pair of amber eyes and silver hair in the clearing that night. His sentimentalities make no sense. Kagome is living, Kikyo is dead; his instincts should tell him that pursuing her is futile.

As he approaches her slowly, with a creased brow and expansive, poignant eyes Kikyo wistfully smiles. Perhaps he is the one more human out of the pair.

"Are you okay?" Kikyo feels the urge to chuckle at his question almost unbearable, but she manages to hold back. Everything about that is pure Inuyasha. He always puts forward the tough, gruff act, but deep down she knows he is as delicate as a glass sparrow. So, incredibly fragile she cannot fathom how he does not fall apart. As he repeats his question she is reminded of the reason. Stubbornness.

"I'm fine," she lies, stepping back to create a metaphorical barrier between them. It hurts to put space between herself and the man she loves but Kikyo knows it will do her no good to get attached. If she becomes attached to him it would spell doom for them all. She would not be content with her state of non-living and would certainly cause more pain and regret for her beloved.

He already blames himself for so much, how can she be selfish and place more weight on his already burdened shoulders?

Kikyo stares up at the night sky above them, trying to draw Inuyasha's attention elsewhere. The moon smiles at her, a 'D' shaped grin in a sea of black. The stars wink and twinkle knowingly; they are the eyes of the gods and they see all.

"Why have you come?" she asks, hands clasped in front of her as she tries to not look at him. He is so handsome at night, with the crepuscular lunar light making his hair blaze like an ethereal halo and softening his hard features. Her hands clench as she holds back the urge to push her palms against his chest, already knowing that if she tries to feel it will not work. Her body is achingly hollow and dull to touch and sensation.

"I was worried, Naraku got you badly." She subconsciously places a hand where the tentacle had struck her, her left rib cage. Inuyasha moves to check it for himself but before he can she steps away. She steps away because if he were to pull away her _hakuri _and examine her wound he would surely be disgusted. He wouldn't find scars or blood-soaked bandages, what he would find would be a steadily mending hole; rivulets of blood would not pour from it, he would be repulsed to find cracks. Pencil thin cracks that spread out from around the point of contact, some snaking around to the other side of her body. So far the illusion still stands, he cannot see it and thus, under her white robes is a bandage acting as a second skin to stop life-blood slipping out.

"It's fine," she monotones, forcing her traitorous hand to drop casually to her side. "I'm a trained _miko_, I can heal myself." The half-truth hurts her. Long ago she could have healed herself in a heartbeat, now her powers are as random and elusive as a skittish rabbit.

Inuyasha frowns and Kikyo smiles. Look, the smile seems to say, I'm happy and I don't need you to worry about me. Inuyasha's brows crease even more. Help me, her doe brown eyes scream, please leave. Leave so I don't have to be reminded of what I'm not.

Yet the _hanyou _zooms in on her, wrapping her up in a hug before she can protest. For a second, for a mere fraction of a moment Kikyo feels warm. She allows the brief flame to melt her, feels her legs quaver as her arms sag and tighten simultaneously. Inuyasha's hands support her, one cradling her head while the other braces her from her lower back. Then the warmth disappears and Kikyo is left unsatisfied. Her skin crawls with self-loathing and shame. She feels like the clay pot she really is and tenses with awareness.

"Kikyo..." His voice is so soft and tender it breaks her metaphorical heart. She can vaguely feel his chin resting atop of her head; can guess where his hands wrap around her but that one moment of clarity has disappeared.

"Kikyo, can we talk, like we used to?" At these words the priestess feels like crying but she cannot. A million memories flit through her mind, of her and Inuyasha first meeting, warily swapping stories of their past. Then come their conversations as friends, of random titbits, frivolous arguments and a few dashings of opinion exchange. And finally, the time when they were something more. They were constantly planning then; of children's names and of important wishes. Kikyo knew now that the wish she wanted Inuyasha to make was as selfish as it was horrible. Her grip tightens as she tries to feel Inuyasha against her, regretting ever wanting to change him.

After a long pause Kikyo loosens her death-grip of the half-breed, backing up to look at him. His eyes glisten and his lip trembles and she knows she has no chance.

"I suppose so, Inuyasha."

And so, a _hanyou_ and an un-dead _miko _begin to meet in moonlit times, as the eyes of the gods bore into their bodies, condemning them for carrying on their correspondence.

Yet Kikyo does not find herself caring. Sometimes she loathes their reunions but sometimes she loves them. She cherishes the moments where the aching emptiness fades away and curses the moments when that is all she can feel.

And at the end, when he leaves, she says to herself_, 'I must tell him to stop seeing me.'_ But Kikyo had been selfless her entire life.

'_I can afford to be selfish, just this once,'_ she tells herself, waiting eagerly for their next reacquaintance.


End file.
